I just finished a first draft of my task 1 Eurofiction story. As is normal for first drafts it’s pretty crap. But I feel smug about it – why?
Well…
After all the work-related stuff that I’ve alluded to I really haven’t done any writing, or even really thought about writing, since last Thursday. So my plan for “week one = draft one” will have to wait for task 2. It meant that with a couple of days to go I had to write something from scratch. OK, not quite scratch because I’d had ideas but nothing that was more than a vague concept.
Also, I was feeling happy about the work thing and feeling like sitting back and relaxing and savouring the moment. Not feeling like forcing my brain to come up with a story. I like writing (sort of) but it’s work too. Hard work.
The point is – I really didn’t feel like writing tonight. Even after, during my walk, discovering a pretty nice little idea, and developing into an outline in my head – even so I knew I’d likely get back, feel tired and just want to slump in front of the TV. Leave the writing for tomorrow since I’ve still got time.
But I didn’t. I sat down and knocked out draft 1. Complete. Crap but complete. And I’m smug not just because I did it but because it’s normally exactly the point where I’d procrastinate myself into a bad mood.
Of course I think the possibility of missing round 1 was bad enough to motivate me, but even so I feel I justified in my smugness.